


The Surface of the Moon

by Orianne (morganya)



Category: Whose Line Is It Anyway? RPF
Genre: Cheating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-12
Updated: 2003-02-12
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:07:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morganya/pseuds/Orianne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your cheating heart will tell on you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Surface of the Moon

Weird things had been going on with Ryan, missed phone calls, unexplained disappearing acts. When Drew told Colin, "You better watch yourself," he figured something was happening.

"You got any plans for today?" Ryan opened the door to the yard to let the dogs out. Colin turned his head from the cutting board. Little pale slices of cucumber speckled the board; he'd been planning on making salad.

"Hmm? Oh. No, not really. It's been a while since I've had a day off, so I figure I should try to enjoy it. When will you be home?"

"I dunno. Six, seven. Maybe."

"You're so dependable."

"That's right." Ryan stood behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist in the usual gesture of affectionate ownership. "Oh, seeing you there, cutting up vegetables…"

"I have a sharp knife in my hand, Ryan. Don't make me use it."

Ryan slid one hand up the front of his shirt. "Mmm. I'm moist."

Colin laughed. "You're going to be late."

"I'll make it quick." Ryan nuzzled his ear. Colin leaned his head back, shutting his eyes; Ryan kissed the side of his neck. And then let go, chuckling. "When I get home."

"Bastard," Colin said affectionately.

"You should know." Ryan walked out of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, whistling.

When Colin heard the door shut he stared back at the cutting board, all thoughts of menu planning disappeared. He dumped the cucumbers into the trash.

Ryan had a study that he used for business; Colin headed there first. The obvious place to look was in his address book.

Most of the names he found were just other show business people that either he or Ryan knew or kind of knew. Colin sat down, mobile phone on his lap, and went through page by page. Near the back of the book was a number with no name. He called that one.

"Hello?" a sleepy female voice said.

"Oh, hello," Colin said. The thought he had was, *What am I doing?* "Is Ryan there, please?"

"Ryan? Hmm. He's not here now, he should be here around four. Is this his roommate?"

*Roommate?* "Yeah," Colin said.

"Oh, hello. This is Emily. I guess he's mentioned me." Giggling.

"Yeah, once or twice."

"Oh." More giggling. She sounded about twenty years old. "I'll tell him you called when I see him."

"Oh, don't bother. It's not important."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Well, if you see him before I do, can you give him a message for me?"

"Yeah."

"Tell him, mmm, that I can't wait to see him and I hope he leaves his bathing suit at home this time." Giggle, giggle. Like splinters under his fingernails.

"Sure," Colin said.

"Bye. Nice to talk to you." She hung up. Colin put his phone back in his pocket. His breath rasped in his chest.

He walked back into the kitchen, put coffee grains and water into the percolator though he didn't want any coffee, took spinach and apples out of the refrigerator though he didn't want those either. He tore the spinach in half and then tossed it onto the counter. Wilted green leaves on white linoleum.

He walked out into the yard. The dogs rushed towards him, barking madly. Colin stared at them. They seemed to all blend together into one mass of noise and fur. Ryan's dogs. They had been here when he moved in, into Ryan's house. Colin stared up over the fence, at the rows of identical blue and white houses lining the street. All of Los Angeles seemed flat and identical, houses propped up on shaky ground, the whole city built on widening fault lines. Colin found himself thinking of Toronto, of Vancouver, of trees and salt water and mountains, and it was all he could do to keep from screaming.

He heard Ryan opening the door at seven thirty. Colin lit another cigarette.

"Hey," Ryan called and then paused. "You quit."

"I started again."

Ryan stayed standing, his keys dangling from his hand.

"I called her," Colin said flatly.

Ryan flinched. "Who?"

"You know. Em-mill-lee," Colin said. "Did you bring your bathing suit this time? She was hoping you wouldn't."

"As a matter of fact, I didn't." Ryan's shoulders were set back. Colin had seen this before, the defensive position. Otherwise there was nothing he recognized here. There was no shame, no 'I'm so sorry' look. Ryan was almost smiling. Colin looked away, wishing he could slap that face, put his hands around his neck and throttle the smug bastard until he turned blue.

"I'm not going to ask how you got her number. But that's a pretty childish move, Col, going through someone else's stuff."

"And you…" Colin stubbed out his cigarette. "I'm not going to get angry. I'm not. I just want to know why."

Ryan slung himself into a chair. Always with that air of ownership. "I love you, okay? I love you. I walked out of my marriage, out on my kids…"

"Just like I did."

"Isn't it enough," Ryan said, "that I come home to you?"

Colin looked around. Nothing was familiar and nothing belonged to him. "No," he said. "It isn't."

He got up, ignoring Ryan calling his name. He walked out to the pool, stripped naked and dove into the deep end. He held his breath and opened his eyes, ignoring the chlorine sting. Underwater, everything was wavy and dark, strange as the surface of the moon. He tried not to breathe, to keep himself from floating upward. He could feel Ryan's shadow creeping up on him.


End file.
